She was standing in the room by the window.The light fell upon the coarse serge dress with its white facings,on the single girdle that scarcely defined the formless waist,on the huge crucifix that dangled ungracefully almost to her knees,on the hideous,white-winged coif that,with the coarse but dense white veil,was itself a renunciation of all human vanity.It was a figure he remembered well as a boy,and even in his excitement and half resentment touched him now,as when a boy,with a sense of its pathetic isolation.His head bowed with boyish deference as she approached gently,passed him a slight salutation,and closed the door that he had forgotten to shut behind him.
Then,with a rapid movement,so quick that he could scarcely follow it,the coif,veil,rosary,and crucifix were swept off,and the young pupil of the convent stood before him.
For all the sombre suggestiveness of her disguise and its ungraceful contour,there was no mistaking the adorable little head,tumbled all over with silky tendrils of hair from the hasty withdrawal of her coif,or the blue eyes that sparkled with frank delight beneath them.Key thought her more beautiful than ever.
Yet the very effect of her frankness and beauty was to recall him to all the danger and incongruity of her position.
"This is madness,"he said quickly."You may be followed here and discovered in this costume at any moment!"Nevertheless,he caught the two little hands that had been extended to him,and held them tightly,and with a frank familiarity that he would have wondered at an instant before.
"But I won't,"she said simply."You see I'm doing a 'half-retreat';and I stay with Sister Seraphina in her room;and she always sleeps two hours after the Angelus;and I got out without anybody knowing me,in her clothes.I see what it is,"she said,suddenly bending a reproachful glance upon him,"you don't like me in them.I know they're just horrid;but it was the only way Icould get out."
"You don't understand me,"he said eagerly."I don't like you to run these dreadful risks and dangers for"--He would have said "for me,"but added with sudden humility--"for nothing.Had Idreamed that you cared to see me,I would have arranged it easily without this indiscretion,which might make others misjudge you.
Every instant that you remain here--worse,every moment that you are away from the convent in that disguise,is fraught with danger.
I know you never thought of it."
"But I did,"she said quietly;"I thought of it,and thought that if Sister Seraphina woke up,and they sent for me,you would take me away with you to that dear little hollow in the hills,where Ifirst heard your voice.You remember it,don't you?You were lost,I think,in the darkness,and I used to say to myself afterwards that I found you.That was the first time.Then the second time I heard you,was here in the hall.I was alone in the other room,for Mrs.Barker had gone out.I did not know you were here,but I knew your voice.And the third time was before the convent gate,and then I knew you knew me.And after that I didn't think of anything but coming to you;for I knew that if I was found out,you would take me back with you,and perhaps send word to my brother where we were,and then"--She stopped suddenly,with her eyes fixed on Key's blank face.Her own grew blank,the joy faded out of her clear eyes,she gently withdrew her hand from his,and without a word began to resume her disguise.
"Listen to me,"said Key passionately."I am thinking only of YOU.
I want to,and WILL,save you from any blame,--blame you do not understand even now.There is still time.I will go back to the convent with you at once.You shall tell me everything;I will tell you everything on the way."She had already completely resumed her austere garb,and drew the veil across her face.With the putting on her coif she seemed to have extinguished all the joyous youthfulness of her spirit,and moved with the deliberateness of renunciation towards the door.
They descended the staircase without a word.Those who saw them pass made way for them with formal respect.
When they were in the street,she said quietly,"Don't give me your arm--Sisters don't take it."When they had reached the street corner,she turned it,saying,"This is the shortest way."It was Key who was now restrained,awkward,and embarrassed.The fire of his spirit,the passion he had felt a moment before,had gone out of him,as if she were really the character she had assumed.He said at last desperately:--"How long did you live in the hollow?"
"Only two days.My brother was bringing me here to school,but in the stage coach there was some one with whom he had quarreled,and he didn't want to meet him with me.So we got out at Skinner's,and came to the hollow,where his old friends,Mr.and Mrs.Barker,lived."There was no hesitation nor affectation in her voice.Again he felt that he would as soon have doubted the words of the Sister she represented as her own.
"And your brother--did you live with him?"
"No.I was at school at Marysville until he took me away.I saw little of him for the past two years,for he had business in the mountains--very rough business,where he couldn't take me,for it kept him away from the settlements for weeks.I think it had something to do with cattle,for he was always having a new horse.
I was all alone before that,too;I had no other relations;I had no friends.We had always been moving about so much,my brother and I.I never saw any one that I liked,except you,and until yesterday I had only HEARD you."Her perfect naivete alternately thrilled him with pain and doubt.
In his awkwardness and uneasiness he was brutal.
